at all. She devoutly wished that she were back at home even if she
were preparing supper, in order that Nancy Ellen might hem towels. She
wondered what they were saying: her mind was crystal clear as to what
they were doing. She wondered if Nancy Ellen would send Adam, 3d, with
a parcel of cut-out sewing for her to work on. She resolved to sew
quickly and with stitches of machine-like evenness, if it came. She
wondered if Nancy Ellen would be compelled to put off her wedding and
teach the home school in order that it might be taught by a Bates, as
her father had demanded. She wondered if Nancy Ellen was forced to
this uncongenial task, whether it would sour the wonderful sweetness
developed by her courtship, and make her so provoked that she would not
write or have anything to do with her. They were nearly the same age;
they had shared rooms, and, until recently, beds, and whatever life
brought them; now Kate lifted her head and ran her hand against her
throat to ease the ache gathering there more intensely every minute.
With eyes that did not see, she sat staring at the sheer walls of the
ravine as it ran toward the east, where the water came tumbling and
leaping down over stones and shale bed. When at last she arose she had
learned one lesson, not in the History she carried. No matter what its
disadvantages are, having a home of any kind is vastly preferable to
having none. And the casualness of people so driven by the demands of
living and money making that they do not take time even to be slightly
courteous and kind, no matter how objectionable it may be, still that,
even that, is better than their active displeasure. So she sat
brooding and going over and over the summer, arguing her side of the
case, honestly trying to see theirs, until she was mentally exhausted
and still had accomplished nothing further than arriving at the
conclusion that if Nancy Ellen was forced to postpone her wedding she
would turn against her and influence Robert Gray in the same feeling.

Then Kate thought of Him. She capitalized him in her thought, for
after nineteen years of Bates men Robert Gray would seem a deified
creature to their women. She reviewed the scene at the crossing log,
while her face flushed with pleasure. If she had remained at home and
had gone after the blackberries, as it was sure as fate that she would
have done, then she would have met him first, and he would have courted
her instead of Nancy Ellen.